


Sacrificial Magic

by rosestone



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Character Turned Into a Ghost, Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-09-16
Updated: 2016-09-16
Packaged: 2018-08-15 08:32:08
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 6
Words: 6,929
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8049424
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/rosestone/pseuds/rosestone
Summary: Strange magic happened the night Voldemort came to Godric's Hollow, and Lily was at the centre of it.  Now a ghost, she's determined to ensure Harry has a better life than the one it looks like he's going to end up with.  Unfortunately, nobody seems to want to help... not that she's going to let that stop her.





	1. Severus

Lily Potter folded her arms and glared at Severus Snape. He was tidying away after a Potions lesson, and at first he didn’t notice her. She was, after all, transparent, and the dungeon was poorly lit. He swooped upon a missed potions vial and turned to place it on his desk, and came to a halt, gaping. The vial dropped to the ground and smashed. Severus took no notice. “You’re dead,” he said, wide-eyed.

“What the _hell_ , Severus. Are you seriously planning on spending the rest of your life in this musty dungeon?”

“I saw your body.”

“And I’ve seen your lessons – _really?_ I know you’re capable of teaching well, Sev, you can do better than _terrorising children!_ ”

“I _held_ your body!”

“Do you remember when we were talking about our futures back in fourth year, and I said I thought you’d make a good teacher, and you said the idea of forcing stupid children to learn things they weren’t actually interested in sounded like your idea of hell? What happened?”

“Lily,” Severus said, voice growing louder with every word, “what the hell is going on here?”

Lily sighed – not that she actually needed air, but it was the thought that counted – and floated over his desk, crossing her legs so she more-or-less looked like she was sitting on it. “I’m not honestly sure. I always thought ghosts chose to be ghosts, and ended up stuck in one magically-powerful area for the rest of… well, forever, but that’s not what happened to me. I’m just here.”

Severus stared at her. The expression on his face reminded her of the first time she’d called him her friend out loud.

“You were… less well defined when I first saw you,” he said finally.

Lily looked down at her insubstantial legs. “I think it’s Hogwarts. The magic is strengthening me. I wasn’t even really conscious for ages, you know. I just sort of floated around, knowing something had gone horribly wrong, but not what, or how to fix it. I didn’t become me again until I got home again. There’s a lot of residual magic there.”

His face twitched terribly. “I know.”

“Severus, what _happened?_ Why are you here, frightening children, instead of out in the world making a name for yourself? Where are Sirius and Harry? And how long has it been? I mean –” she hesitated – “you don’t look that much older, but I don’t know _anything_.”

“Are you sure you want to know?” Despite what Lily had said, Severus did look older. Tired. She supposed she would have looked the same, if she’d lived through the war. Right now, he looked worse.

“It can’t possibly be that bad,” she said, trying to smile.

“Well, then,” he said, and told her.

It was.

 

“I refuse to leave him there,” Lily announced, shoving herself off the desk. She reached up to her hair and frowned as she realised that she didn’t need to – in fact, couldn’t – pull it back.

“Lily,” Severus said, “I hate to state the obvious, but you’re a ghost. You can’t take Harry away.”

“I’m not a proper ghost, though.”

“And yet.”

“Well, you’ll have to help me, then,” she said, turning to him.

“What? No.”

“You can do the things that require hands,” she continued, ignoring him, “like feeding Harry and putting him to bed and that sort of thing, and I’ll talk to him and tell him stories and teach him things. Like how to read, and mathematics.”

“I am not raising your child, Lily.”

“Obviously we’ll have to set up in Hogsmeade, so I’m close enough to large amounts of magic to stay stable. I’m sure I can arrange access to the Potter Vault for you so you can buy a house –”

“Lily,” Severus snapped. “I appreciate your desire to look after your child, but I am not going to be involved in this.”

Lily stared at him for a few moments, lips pressed together and arms folded.

“Well, I suppose in that case I only have one option,” she said.

“Oh? And what would that be?”

“Go to Petunia and make sure she’s looking after Harry properly.”

Severus blinked. “Didn’t you say that you needed magic to stay… coherent, for lack of a better word?”

“I didn’t say it was a good option,” Lily said, lips quirked. “She hated magic so much by the end, though, Sev. And that husband of hers was worse. I can’t leave him in that environment. Maybe I’m wrong, maybe she’s capable of ignoring her jealousy to raise him properly – but I have a bad feeling about it. And my bad feeling about you turned out to be pretty much correct.”

Severus spluttered. Lily ignored him and turned for the door.

“I’ll come back when I can’t manage any longer,” she said. “I hope you’ll be doing better by your students then. Goodbye, Severus.”

He stood and watched as she slid through the door. The problem with Lily Evans had always been that she expected the best of people – and, applied to someone who cared enough about her to regret disappointing her, those expectations often bore fruit.


	2. Petunia

Petunia Dursley shivered.  She’d had the unsettling feeling that someone was watching her all morning.  She knew that nobody was; Vernon was at work, Dudley in his room, and the boy outside in the garden – but, she supposed, that didn’t mean that _something_ couldn’t be watching.  She didn’t like acknowledging the existence of her sister’s world, but Petunia knew more about it than she liked, and she knew that there were plenty of _things_ that might have an eye on her.

It was probably just her imagination, though.  They were supposed to be protected against anything that might come for them or the boy.  Dumbledore had promised.

“Petunia,” someone said faintly behind her.  Her back prickled.  Nobody should be in the house – nobody but the children, and that was a woman’s voice, one she knew –

She turned slowly.  There Lily stood, hardly more than twenty, faded and pale but _there_ –

A scream bubbled in her throat.  Petunia clamped down on it, terribly aware that Dudley would come running if he heard, and backed against the refrigerator.

“Petunia,” Lily said more firmly.  “Is Harry here?”

“You’re dead,” Petunia managed in a strangled squeak.  “How – are you even Lily?  Are you some sort of, of demon?”

“Really, Tuney?” Lily said, throwing her hands in the air.  Petunia’s heart began to slow its race.  That was Lily, through and through.  “I’ve been dead for _years_ apparently and your first thought is that I’m a demon?  There’s not even any fire and brimstone!  And why would a demon want to attack you?”

“It’s not like I _expected_ you to show up here!” Petunia said, putting her hands on her hips.  “I think I’m handling this rather well, under the circumstances.”

Lily snorted.  “I don’t think so.  You’re doing better than Severus, though.”

“I should hope so.”

“Petunia,” Lily said, a little more hesitantly, “ _is_ Harry here?  Severus wasn’t sure, but you’re the only living relative James or I had left, and Sirius apparently got arrested – which must have been some kind of mix-up, I know for a fact at least one of the allegations against him was made up entirely – but this is the most sensible place for him, even if I can’t imagine you’re happy to have a magical child under your roof.”

“He’s outside,” Petunia said.  Lily wouldn’t be happy when she saw him, but it was only a matter of time until she found out, and better now than after Vernon came home.

Lily floated over to the window.  Her torso faded out of view as she did so, allowing her to see without being seen, and Petunia glanced away hastily.

“What’s he doing?”

“Chores,” Petunia said, hoping to stave off the inevitable.

Lily’s legs turned, and she faded back into visibility as she approached Petunia, glaring.  “Is he doing the _gardening?_   Harry’s a child!”

Petunia crossed her arms across her chest.  “The discipline’s good for him.”

“He’s _four!_ ”

“He needs the work!”

“Oh, don’t give me that bullshit – I know what the problem is here!”

“Do tell,” Petunia said, raising her eyebrows as scornfully as she could manage.

“You’re _jealous_ ,” Lily said.  “I had everything you ever wanted, and Harry’s going to have it too, and you’re trying to make him so miserable he’ll never be able to take advantage of it.”

“I did not want –”

“Liar!”

“Freak!”

“At least I had a real life,” Lily said, eyes bright, “not some stifled awful suburbia –”

“At least I’m _alive!_ ”

Lily stared at her, translucent cheeks dark.

“Magic killed you, Lily,” Petunia said, tired suddenly.  “How can I not try to keep him normal?  I suppose I will make him miserable, but maybe I’ll keep him safe too.”

Lily didn’t say anything for a few moments.  “You can’t squash magic out of him, Petunia,” she said finally.  “It’s there whether you want it or not.  He’ll probably just have more accidents.”

Petunia shrugged.  “I can try, can’t I?”

“Find a better way,” Lily said flatly.  She turned and floated through the kitchen door.  Petunia sat at the kitchen table, resting her head in her hands.  She’d forgotten how exhausting fighting with Lily could be.

 

Petunia didn’t see Lily again that day, though she was sure she felt her sister’s eyes on her.  The sensation made her tense and twitchy; Vernon didn’t understand why she was upset, but he grew short with Harry, as if suspecting the boy of having done something to her, and Harry in turn shrank from both of them.

The sensation of being watched vanished the next day.  Petunia rather thought that Lily was just trying harder to hide for Harry’s sake, since she’d hardly abandon her son, but she relaxed anyway.  After the previous afternoon’s blazing fight, it was nice to have a quiet day.  Dudley settled in front of the TV, Harry set himself to pulling weeds (Petunia felt a twinge of guilt, but it wasn’t as though she’d asked him to do it), and she cleaned the kitchen desultorily.  She should have known it wouldn’t last.

The quiet was broken by a shattering wail.  Petunia jolted around and sprinted for the back garden, half-expecting to see Harry sporting a broken arm.  But as she slammed the back door open she saw nothing but Harry carrying a handful of mangled weeds to the bin.  He looked up at her curiously.

“Harry?”  Lily was just beside him, face a rictus of despair.  “Harry, baby, _say_ something –”

“Is something wrong, Aunt Petunia?”

Petunia pressed a hand to her stomach, roiling with nausea.  “Have – have you seen anyone out here today, Harry?”

He shook his head, frowning.  “No, just me.”

“I think you’ve done enough chores for now,” she said, breathing steadily.  Lily began wailing again; Harry remained unaware.  “Why don’t you go inside for now?”

“Okay,” he said, still frowning.  He threw the handful of plants into the bin and brushed past her, blinking in the dark.

“Lily?” Petunia said softly.

“No, no, no…”

“Lily, it’s okay.”  Her words sounded unconvincing even to herself, but it didn’t matter.  Lily was beyond hearing her.

“Why can’t he see me?  Harry, baby, no no no –”

Her voice rose to a peak.  Petunia glanced around instinctively, sure despite herself that someone would notice what was going on.  Suddenly Lily’s voice cut off, and her head jerked around.  Lily was fading out, hands pressed to her face, eyes wide and hopeless.  Petunia pressed a hand to her mouth, forcing back a scream.  She almost seemed to be dissolving, and Petunia couldn’t help but wonder if this was Lily’s real death.  Could ghosts suicide?

She was gone all of a sudden.  The garden seemed cold and empty.  Petunia squeezed her eyes closed and wished she’d done more than scream at Lily and make stupid excuses.  One last chance to reconcile, and now she was gone, probably forever –

She turned suddenly, not wanting to stand and think about it.  The house seemed claustrophobic, but at least she hadn’t seen Lily die there.

Harry was sitting at the kitchen table.  He jumped up when he saw her, watching her warily.

“What are you doing in here?” she said, rubbing her hands on her thighs.

“Dudley didn’t want me watching TV with him,” he said.

“Ah.”  Petunia hesitated.  “Wait here for a moment, Harry.  There’s something I want to show you.”

When she and Vernon had moved in, she’d shoved her old photos in a box in the attic and left them there.  She made her way up there and knelt beside it, hands hovering over the lid for a moment.  She almost couldn’t make herself open it, but she firmed her lips and straightened her spine and flipped it up.  This wasn’t about her.  It was about Lily and her son, and that was something she should’ve made herself face a long time ago. 

She hurried down the stairs, bundle of photos clutched in her hand.  Harry was still standing by the table, frowning mistrustfully at her.

“Sit down, Harry,” Petunia said, trying to keep her voice steady.  She spread the photos on the table and sat beside him.  “I want to tell you about your mother.”


	3. Sirius

Lily opened her eyes.

Everything was dark.  For a moment, she thought she might finally have passed on properly.  But as her eyes adjusted she realised the darkness was textured – stone, maybe?  She breathed in and felt nothing.  Still a ghost, then.  She pressed her lips together and floated forwards, blinking as she emerged into sunlight.  Hogwarts loomed above her.  She must have headed for the highest concentration of magic she could find after – _that_.

Well.  She’d better go and track down Petunia.  Maybe she’d started treating Harry better.  Maybe pigs would fly.

On the other hand… Petunia could be stubborn.  It was entirely possible that showing up again to badger her into acting like an adult and not a sulky teenager would make her treat Harry worse instead.  She might have better luck convincing her to give Harry into someone else’s care, since she clearly didn’t _want_ to look after Harry, but that raised the issue of who.  Lily highly doubted Remus would accept the care of a small child, even if he could convince the Ministry to let him.  Severus had told her Sirius was in Azkaban, having allegedly murdered Peter and a bunch of Muggles.  She didn’t doubt that he was rash enough to have done it, considering the circumstances, but Sirius wasn’t a collateral-damage sort of person.  Possibly Peter had tried to curse him as he died and hit passers-by instead.  Alice, who’d been Harry’s godmother, was apparently in St. Mungo’s for good; Augusta Longbottom might be prevailed upon, but Lily had always found her overly strict and she wasn’t sure she wanted Harry to grow up like that.  He deserved a bit of happiness after Petunia’s care.  Severus had already refused, Peter was dead and a traitor besides, and she hadn’t the faintest idea what had happened to any of her other schoolmates.  Some of them must be dead, others too damaged by the war to be a good guardian… she sighed in frustration.  If only Petunia weren’t determined to treat Harry poorly, she’d be the best option.

She wondered what had become of Sirius.  Was he still sane?  Her classmates had told her terrible stories about the fate of people who spent too much time around dementors, and he’d been in there for years now.  And how long was his sentence, anyway?  Considering Peter had been a Death Eater, she was surprised he was still in there.  Maybe she could convince him to appeal his sentence.  At the very least, going to see him in Azkaban would give her a chance to express how annoyed she was that he’d gone and gotten himself arrested, of all the things.  And the trip would give Petunia a chance to rethink things.  The dementors might be a problem, but she’d never heard of them being a danger to ghosts, and she could probably float away faster than they could.  It was hardly dangerous at all, really.  Quite simple.  She turned and set off to the north, leaving Hogwarts behind her.

 

“What the _fuck_ , Sirius.”

Sirius snapped awake.  For a moment, he’d thought he’d heard Lily, voice vibrating with the righteous fury he’d come to hate (primarily because she usually aimed it at him).  Which was ridiculous, because Lily was dead, had been for years probably.  It was his fault.

“You’d better not be ignoring me.”

He rolled over on the hard bunk and stared at the wall.  There wasn’t much he could do about hearing, but he didn’t have to look at the hallucination.  He could pretend to be sane a little longer.

“Sirius Orion Black, you turn and face me _right_ now –”

His body obeyed before his brain had caught up with what was happening, and Sirius found himself staring at, apparently, Lily Potter.  Her arms were folded, and she was glaring.  She was also slightly transparent, but considering that she was dead and a construct of his dementor-ridden mind, Sirius wasn’t especially bothered.

“What exactly do you have to say for yourself?” Hallucination-Lily said, lips pursing.

Sirius considered it.  “Sorry, I suppose.  Is James coming too?”

Lily flinched.  “I – I don’t know where James is.  Properly dead, I suppose.  I hope.”

“I sort of thought I’d be apologising to both of you, when this happened.”

Lily opened and closed her mouth, then frowned.  “You expected this?”

“Well, I’m in Azkaban, aren’t I?  Madness is par for the course.”

“I – this isn’t – you aren’t mad, Sirius.”  Lily looked rather upset.  Sirius wished she didn’t.

“Says the hallucination.”

“I’m not – augh!”  Lily stamped an ethereal foot.  Sadness to anger in five seconds.  Yes, this was the Lily he knew.  “I’m not a hallucination, Sirius.  I’m a ghost.  Sort of.”

“Why’re you haunting Azkaban?”

“I’m not haunting Azkaban, Sirius, honestly.  Don’t you think you would’ve seen me by now, if I were?  I’m – oh.  _Oh._ ”  She crouched slowly, curling herself into a ball slightly above the floor, face somehow paler than it had been before.  “Oh, Merlin.”

“What’s wrong?” Sirius asked, wondering if it was normal to have to comfort one’s hallucinations.

“I’m not haunting a place,” she said, rubbing her face.  “I’m haunting people.  The people who knew me.  Who remember me.  You, and Severus, and Petunia.  Not Harry.  He was too little.”

“Harry?”

Her mouth curled into a smile.  There was no joy in it.  “He can’t see me.  I stood in front of him and Petunia, and she was the only one who had any idea I was there.”

Sirius’s stomach lurched.  She looked so very _Lily_ crouching there – surely his imagination couldn’t conjure up someone so realistic?  Nor could it conjure such a horrifying explanation, or Petunia Evans having anything to do with magic.  Not her.

“Why would she be with Harry?” he asked.  “She always hated magic.”

Anger swept over Lily again.  “Well, his _godfather_ got himself thrown into _prison_ for murdering Peter and a bunch of Muggles, which I’m fairly sure you didn’t do, and never even bothered to try to clear his name –”

“I didn’t get a trial!  There wasn’t a point, that bastard stitched me up properly.  What was I supposed to do, try to convince the dementors to get me a lawyer?”

“You just gave yourself up, Sev told me!”

“Would you have preferred that I go on the run – maybe kidnap Harry into the bargain?” Sirius demanded.

“Yes, actually,” Lily said, jerking her chin up.  Sirius blinked at her, open-mouthed.  “Alternatively,” she added, “you could have done the _sensible_ thing and not gone after Peter at all.  If you’d gone to Dumbledore and explained the situation, he could’ve gotten you out of it.  You’d be living with Harry somewhere nice instead of Azkaban, and I wouldn’t have needed to waste time trying to convince Severus to help me look after Harry.”

Sirius let out an undignified squeak.  Lily scowled at him.  “I don’t know why I’m here, honestly.  There’s nothing I can do to get you out of here, and even if you could you’d never be approved for Harry’s guardianship now.  I should go back to shouting at Petunia.  That, at least, seemed to have results.”

She swept out of the cell, ignoring Sirius’s tumble off the bunk as he reached out for her.  The tiny room dimmed as she left it, and he sank back onto the bed.

Lily was right, whether she was a hallucination or not.  He hadn’t done by Harry the way he ought to.  That could be changed, though.  Lily clearly wouldn’t mind if he took Harry away from Petunia, and he was sure he could manage it.  He was Sirius Black, after all.

He grinned wolfishly.  Time to make a change.


	4. Peter

Lily’s headlong flight from Azkaban flagged after a few hours.  Being a ghost had some definite advantages, but her inability to use magical or mundane transport wasn’t one of them.  She could feel herself draining of energy as she flew, and panic began to gnaw at her.  Obviously she would prefer to be with James, wherever he was, but she couldn’t leave until she’d made better arrangements for Harry.  She _wouldn’t_ leave, more to the point, which meant she needed to recharge on magic.  Hogwarts was certainly too far away, and she was fairly sure she wouldn’t make it to London, so she’d need to find some wizarding hamlet or house to hide out in for a few hours.  She paused atop a hill and peered around, looking for the telltale heat-haze shimmer of magical protections.  Something gleamed off in the distance in the early morning sun, and she nodded decisively.

 

It turned out, after twenty minutes’ flight, to be a pair of wizarding houses.  Lily floated into the nearer, and sighed with relief as the house’s ambient magic began flowing into her.  It wasn’t nearly as good as Hogwarts would have been, but beggars couldn’t be choosers, and so Lily settled into a corner of the kitchen to soak it up.

Unfortunately, the house was occupied, and heavily at that.  After no more than ten minutes, the matriarch of the household came in and started cooking, and a steady stream of children followed.  Lily shifted uncomfortably as they began chatting, blissfully unaware that there was an interloper listening in on them, and decided to move upstairs.  Each room she entered was a bedroom, which she felt equally awkward about invading, and so she continued up and up – until she found herself face-to-face with a rat, which immediately squeaked and fled.

Lily stared after it.  It had _seen_ her.  Could animals be some sort of exception to the rule?  But then why would it run away?

The answer came to her suddenly, burning in her gut like a shot of Firewhiskey.  James had told her the secret one night a few weeks before they got married – _the_ secret, because while James had kept a lot of secrets, this was the only one that might land him and his friends in Azkaban, and he wanted to make sure she knew before the wedding.  The stag, the dog… and the rat.  And Sirius hadn’t said, _oh yes, I killed Peter_.  He’d said _that bastard stitched me up properly_.  Peter hadn’t died.  He’d just pretended to.

Her smile was like a knife.  She was going to _enjoy_ this.

 

Peter flattened himself underneath an armoire, heart beating like a butterfly’s wings.  He had to be mistaken – it couldn’t be her – but if there was one thing he’d learned in life, it was that wanting something to be wrong didn’t make it so, and magic could do some truly weird things.  If Harry Potter could survive a killing curse, what was to stop Lily Potter from suddenly appearing as a ghost five years later?

“Peter,” a voice hissed behind him.  He scurried forwards, not bothering to look.  “Peter, you little bastard, how dare you – how could you betray us like this, leave Harry to die –”

He dived under a pile of fresh laundry and panted for breath.  She’d go away eventually.

“I wish I could still do magic,” Lily said, sounding as though she were under the floorboards.  “I can think of all sorts of interesting curses I saw in the war I’d like to use on you.  I’m sure you can too, can’t you, Peter?”

He wriggled out from under the clothing and skittered towards the door, squeezing through the narrow gap and out onto the stairs.

“I won’t leave you, you know,” she went on.  “I have eternity, and nothing to do.  I wonder how long you’ll live with me as your conscience?  I’ll be there to wake you every time you try to sleep, Peter.  I’ll whisper in your ear every moment you’re alive.  And when you finally die… well, _then_ we’ll have some fun.”

Peter’s stomach lurched.  He didn’t need to look at her to know she was smiling, or that she was telling the truth.  Lily Evans had held grudges like it was a religion when she was alive, and he had no doubt she’d get even more obsessive without a life to distract her.  He shook his head and continued down the stairs.

“How much sleep do rats need?  People start getting a bit strange without any, and it must be the same for animals.  You’ll be tired and stressed.  Jumpy, twitchy, off your feed.  Do you think whatever poor boy is looking after you will want to keep a paranoid rat?  They’ll toss you out the back door and get him a new pet.  How well do you think you’ll live on the outside?  How long?  Maybe an owl will get you.  They like rats.”

Peter flinched as he sped into the kitchen.  Surely she wouldn’t follow him in there –

“Sorry, Peter,” Lily said cheerfully.  “They can’t see me.  You’re the only one I get to talk to.  Isn’t this fun?”

“Scabbers!”  Hands seized him.  “Sorry, Mum, I’ll put him back.”

Peter whimpered as he was carried upstairs, Lily smiling at him.  He wanted to wriggle and bite, get _away_ , but he knew if he did it’d spell his end.  Mrs Weasley wouldn’t keep an animal that bit, and Lily was entirely right about his ability to survive outside.

“So,” Lily continued, smirking as he was pushed into a cage.  “What shall we talk about?  Oh, I know!  How about that time you decided to _kill_ my _son?_   That sounds like a nice topic, don’t you think?”

Peter scrabbled at the latch.  It refused to move.  He moaned and fled to the far corner of the cage, burying his head in shredded paper.  It didn’t help.

“I’m quite curious about your decision to betray us and all of your other friends, Peter.  It’s a pity you can’t tell me why.  I’d really like to know what was worth your friendships, loyalty, and honour.  He must have offered you something really impressive.”

Percy would have to let him out again eventually.  And then he could… what?  Run to a different corner of the house?  He’d just be put back in the cage.  Lily would never leave him alone.  She’d drive him to death, and then drive him to worse.  Oh, Merlin.  He couldn’t escape.  Unless…

Peter pulled his head out of the paper, able for the first time to ignore Lily’s pleasant-voiced rendition of the terrible things she was going to do to him, and stared at the cage.  It wasn’t enchanted at all – just basic wire.  He could, theoretically speaking, transform in here.  Breaking out of the cage would hurt, but it hardly mattered.  All he had to do was Apparate to some other part of England, and Lily would be left behind.  What were the odds that Lily could find him twice?  He probably wouldn’t be able to find as cushy a home as this again, but it was better than dying.

He changed, trying to ignore the tearing pain as the cage broke apart around him.  Lily hissed in fury.  He fell, legs tangled in metal, and his head hit the bedframe.  For a moment, all Peter saw was stars, and his attempt to push himself upright only worsened it.  Then the door slammed open.  Mrs Weasley cut off her tirade with a shriek and a “ _Stupefy!_ ”  Peter knew no more.

 

Lily floated above one of the kitchen benches, legs dangling, and watched as Aurors trooped in and out.  She hadn’t intended to get Peter arrested, but she had to admit it was satisfying.  What had started out as a routine home-invasion callout to the DMLE had become abruptly more serious when the wizard sent to investigate recognised Peter.  Ten minutes of arguing through the Floo later, Mad-Eye Moody had emerged to cast a series of spells at Peter, which apparently confirmed that he was actually Peter Pettigrew, and he was taken into custody to investigate his mysterious disappearance.  The remaining Aurors were interviewing the Weasleys, examining the house’s protective spells, and searching for evidence of occupation.  Lily suspected they’d been bored by peacetime, since there wasn’t any evidence so far that dark wizards had been involved in Peter’s disappearance, and there were far more Aurors present than there needed to be even if this _had_ been an official investigation.  Still, it wasn’t for her to judge.  They’d get their evidence soon enough.

A young man Lily didn’t recognise popped through the Floo and whispered in one of the other Auror’s ear.  He stared at his cohort for a moment, then turned to the Weasleys and asked politely if any of them had seen a rat around the premises recently.  Lily grinned.

Another Auror followed him out of the Floo, wide-eyed.  She gestured Mad-Eye over.  “Sirius Black –” she got out, and Mad-Eye rolled his eye.

“Looks suspicious, I know, but unless you’ve got an iron-clad confession –”

“No, I mean – he’s escaped!”

Lily gaped.  Surely not.  Surely Sirius couldn’t have managed to escape from Azkaban right before he was about to be exonerated.  Surely even he – what was she thinking?  Of course he would.

She sighed.  Trust Sirius to make everything much more complicated than it needed to be.

The Aurors cleared out in short order, leaving the shell-shocked Weasley family under the care of a wizard from the Magical Law Enforcement Patrol.  Lily drifted down to the floor and floated out of the house.  She was well up on magic and she’d given Petunia plenty of time to reflect on the error of her ways.  It was time to go back to Privet Drive.


	5. Lily

The house was empty.

Lily stared at the sign on the front lawn in horror.  SOLD.  Nothing in the house, no sign of where they might have taken Harry, oh Merlin –

Severus.  He’d known where Harry was – well, guessed – he ought to be able to track him down again.  Not that he’d known where Petunia lived, of course, he probably would’ve needed a Yellow Pages like anyone else if she hadn’t remembered about Privet Drive –

Lily blinked and looked back at the house.  Might Petunia have left a Yellow Pages behind?  Not that it would have their new address.  She would have put a redirect on the post, though, and the address of the local post office ought to be in the directory.  Which raised the question of whether, as a ghost, she was capable of reading a closed book… well, it was worth a try, surely?  And it was definitely better than having to go all the way to Hogwarts and back again.  She raised a hand to brush an insubstantial wisp of hair out of her face, frowned as it refused to budge, and floated forwards, head held high.  The sooner she set to, the sooner she’d see Harry.  Time to get to work.

 

The Dursleys’ new house was larger than their old one.  Something seemed different about it, though.  It came to Lily as she glanced around the nearby homes.  There was something about Privet Drive that had seemed… _aspirational_ , she supposed.  As if each and every one of the people living there had decided that they wanted to be rich and successful, and that being so required them to live in a certain way, with overly neat gardens and overly identical houses and overly samey lives.  The houses here were less sterile, less tidy, and overall felt more like a place that people actually _lived_ , rather than a place they stayed while trying to get to somewhere better.  It was a nice change, but a baffling one.

Lily headed forwards, a little hesitantly.  Through the door, along a hallway cluttered with children’s toys… there she was, scrubbing the kitchen table.  Lily paused just inside the door, not quite sure she wanted to go any further.  She could just go find Harry…

Petunia turned, cloth in hand, and leaped backwards with a strangled shriek.

“Tuney!  Are you all right?”

“You – I thought you were dead!”

Lily blinked at her.  “Well, yes.”

“Not –” Petunia shook her head.  “When you vanished.  I thought you were… gone.  Where have you _been?_   It’s been more than a year!”

“What?”  Lily stared at her.  “A year?  Are you sure?”

“Very much so.”

“I must have wandered for longer than I thought.”  She rubbed her hands on her thighs.  “I see you moved in the interim.  Because of me?  This isn’t exactly your sort of area.”

Petunia shifted.  “Not exactly.  Not because you came to visit, if that’s what you mean.  Things… got complicated.”

Lily raised an eyebrow at her, waiting for her to continue.  Petunia looked away instead.  The silence stretched, and was broken by a distant wail.

Lily stared.  “Petunia, is that a _baby?_ ”

A brief, proud smile flitted across Petunia’s face.  “Come on, I’ll introduce you.”

 

The baby was upstairs, in a small, appallingly pink room.  She couldn’t have been older than two months, but she screamed like a much older child – or maybe Lily was just forgetting how loud babies could be.  Petunia scooped her out of her crib and rocked her, murmuring soothingly, and the ear-shattering wails died down a little.

“After you came,” Petunia said softly, eyes fixed on her daughter, “I thought, well.  Maybe it was time for a change.  Vernon didn’t really agree – your husband gave him a rather traumatic first introduction to magic, and he’s never really gotten over it – but, well.  It wasn’t right.”  Her cheeks had grown rather pink.

“Petunia,” Lily said, grinning, “did you distract your husband from my son with a baby?”

“She wasn’t actually part of the plan,” Petunia said, cheeks now quite red.  Lily snickered.

“So, what’s her name?”

Petunia looked up at her, hesitating, and Lily flinched.

“We can change it if you’d prefer,” Petunia said, “but I thought it was a nice memorial.  For Harry, too.”  She placed her daughter down in the crib, tucking blankets around her.  “His room is just down the hall.  He’s at school right now, if you wanted to see him.”

The room wasn’t that much larger than Little Lily’s.  There was a proper bed, made a little more neatly than one might expect from a child Harry’s age.  There were a few toys scattered on the floor, and more in a plastic box on the floor.  And everywhere there were pictures – photographs of Lily and Petunia as children, imitations in crayon surrounding them, and their wedding photo in pride of place on the bedside table.  She pressed her hand to her mouth.

“I’m sorry about before,” Petunia said softly.

Lily turned to face her where she stood in the hall.  “It was awful.  Nobody should treat a child like that.  This helps, though.”

Petunia studied her, browns drawn.  After a moment she said, “Are you going to try to talk to him again?”

Lily shook her head.  “The only people who’ve seen me so far are you, Sev, and a couple of James’s old friends.  I don’t think anyone else can.”

“Have you thought about what you’re going to do next, then?”

“Stay here and watch over Harry, of course.”

Petunia pursed her lips.  “Are you sure that’s a good idea?”

“And why shouldn’t it be?” Lily said, folding her arms.

“Have you done anything at all since you… woke up that doesn’t have something to do with Harry, directly or indirectly?”

Lily shook her head.  “Why should I?”

Petunia sighed.  “I can’t blame you, I suppose.  I’d probably do the same if it were Dudley or Lil.  But as your older sister I think it’s my place to tell you to find something else to do with your, ah…”

“Life?” Lily said, one brow raised.

“So to speak.  You’re obsessing, Lily.  Do you really want to spend Harry’s entire life following him around?  Constantly looking at someone you can’t touch or talk to, someone who can’t even see you?”

“He’s my _son_.”

“And you’re my sister.  Go and track down some of your old school friends and find out if they can see you.  Go, I don’t know, find out why you’re not dead properly.  Haunt a magic library and see if there’s a way to let Harry see you too.  Do _something_ that isn’t sitting around here.”

Lily hunched her shoulders.

“I promise I’ll look after him,” Petunia said, softening her voice.  “I’m not asking you to leave forever, Lily.  Just… let him grow up without a ghost hanging over his shoulder.  Come back regularly, I’ll tell you everything he’s been up to… but you’ll both do better if you don’t stay.”

“I’ll think about it,” Lily said.  She whirled away into the walls.  Petunia sighed and went to sit by her daughter.

When Harry and Dudley arrived home that afternoon, Petunia felt eyes on them, watching as Dudley scowled at Harry when his mother’s back was turned and pouted over his homework.  The sensation faded as the evening wore on.  The next day, it was gone entirely.


	6. Epilogue

The Dursleys’ home at Robertson Place was quiet and normal for the next few months.  No ghosts disturbed the peace.  There were no large magical accidents, though Petunia was quite sure that the plate Harry had dropped had broken, not bounced.  Dudley even began to accept that no amount of tantrums on his part would return Harry to his cupboard or Little Lily to wherever babies came from.  In hindsight, Petunia thought she ought to have known it wouldn’t last.

On the fourth of October, she went outside to pick up the mail only to find a man loitering on the front step, shifting uncomfortably in his suit in a way that shrieked _normally I wear robes_.  His face was vaguely familiar; Petunia thought she might have seen him at Lily’s wedding, since she’d hardly met any wizards otherwise.  He introduced himself stumblingly as Sirius Black, Harry’s godfather, and might he come in?  Petunia hesitated, but decided she ought to let him, if only so they could discuss Harry without potential interlopers.

She led him into the sitting room, gestured him into a chair, and pointedly did not offer him tea.  He coughed uncomfortably.  Petunia sat, folded her hands in her lap and stared at Sirius, deciding to get straight to the point.  “If you’re Harry’s godfather, where have you been all these years?”

He shifted.  “It’s a, ah, somewhat difficult question to answer.”

Petunia raised her eyebrows.

“Maybe difficult isn’t the right word.  Just… it’s going to sound terrible and like I’m an unfit guardian, but I promise I’m not.  I just need you to listen to the end.”

“Then perhaps you’d better get on with it,” Petunia said pointedly.

“Right.  Well.  You may or may not know, I was good friends with James at school –”

“Could we skip the extraneous details?”

Sirius rubbed a hand across his face.  “One of my best friends framed me for murder and I got sent to Azkaban, I escaped, and then the bas- ah, person who’d framed me coincidentally got arrested and my sentence was overturned.”

Petunia blinked.  “Maybe not _that_ many details.”

The corner of Sirius’s mouth quirked up in what wasn’t quite a smile.  “I suppose it started back in the war, when we first heard that You-Know-Who was targeting James and Lily…”

 

Some time later, Petunia sat back.  She hadn’t noticed until now that she’d been, quite literally, on the edge of her seat.

“So here I am,” Sirius finished, spreading his hands.  “A free man, clean bill of health – on the Ministry’s knut, no less – and I’d quite like to get to know my godson.  I reckon he’s changed a lot since the last time I saw him.”

“I just had one question,” Petunia said, frowning.  “Why escape then?  It’s an incredible coincidence, doing it right before Pettigrew was caught, and if you could’ve done it at any time…”

Sirius shifted in his seat.  “It’s going to sound a little… well, strange.”

“What, more so than the fact that you can turn yourself into a dog?”

Sirius sighed.  “I had… I guess it must’ve been a hallucination.  Of Lily.  She kept shouting at me.  She wanted to know why I’d left Harry, how I’d ended up in there, why I hadn’t done something to prove my innocence… is something wrong?”

Petunia buried her face in her hands, snickering, and did not answer.

**Author's Note:**

> This isn't the fic I planned to write when I started this fest. I'm glad I ended up with it, though, if only because "Lily Potter shouts at people and accidentally makes the world a better place" is way more iddy and self-indulgent than what I had planned. This will probably end up with a sequel at some point, since I'd like to answer certain important questions such as "Why did Lily actually become a ghost?", "Did Snape end up less terrible?" and "Did Harry still end up with an absurdly adventurous childhood?", and I already know basically where the sequel will go, but it'll have to wait until I don't have super important exams looming on the horizon.  
> Thanks for reading!


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